Today I was supposed to go to Weight Watchers. Instead I made Christmas cookies.

And by that I mean I made Jeans Bars, so named because they’re guaranteed to make your jeans tight. Yeah. I know, I know…

But, it got me to thinking about the food I need far more than Christmas cookies.

And the God who has given to all of us who are hungry and thirsty for that “more”…

At church the other night we had communion.

I watched as a man guided his plump, smiley wife to the front. Her eyes bright and expectant as a child’s. Her blond curls tousled.

But, standing before the bread and “wine” offered to her, the confusion of Alzheimer’s transformed her face. Take? Eat? What? Her husband guided her hand to take the bread. He gently helped her dunk it in the juice.

Yes. Jesus. For you. It’s ok.

Sometimes the Gospel is just hard for me to understand. Hard to believe. Hard to accept.

Another time, in another place,a friend of mine was in line for communion. Hungry. The woman in front of her stopped and started stacking piece upon piece of bread in her hand. Apparently feeling the need for more of the lavish grace that Jesus offers.

My friend was startled and concerned at this rather bizarre behavior and lack of rule-following. She thought, “What if there’s not enough for everyone?”

But there was. There always is.

And sometimes I need to be reminded grace breaks all the rules. And that I’m more needy than I know. But Jesus is always enough. His is not a snack, but a feast.

Another friend, a powerful, wealthy, young businessman, dying of a brain tumor came to understand that deep need, that deep hunger for the eternal. He was broken to the point of utter dependence on Jesus.

Eventually he couldn’t speak clearly. He was unable to use the right side of his body, arm, & hand…But still, he wanted to serve communion as he had many times when he was “healthy.”

And so, another came alongside, and they stood at the front of the church, one man holding the other up, as together, they offered life to all who would come.

A physical picture of the the spiritual brokenness of all of us.

And as I came down the aisle to receive communion from my dying friend, I came as sister, also dying from my brokenness, to Jesus who offersmore than Christmas cookies.

Christmas cookies. A sacred reminder to me today of the “more” of eternity.

Do you have “pictures” like these of times when the truth of what Jesus offers has become more real to you?